


do you want me (dead?)

by cliffakitten



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, M/M, but its not detailed or between the boys, but no one will tell luke why michael hates him, but they have a month to sort their shit out, but this has been in my head for ages, i know i usually write lashton, michael and luke hate each other, some slight non-con in chapter two, the boys are roomates at uni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2315381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffakitten/pseuds/cliffakitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Luke are flatmates who can't stand each other, so the two of them having to spend the Christmas break with just each other could only be a bad thing, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely people! 
> 
> This is my first chaptered fic in this fandom and also my first go at Muke, so I'm kinda terrified to see what you think. I have it all planned out so I know just what's going to go down (or who ;p - sorry) so updates should be every other day (or third depending on my life). 
> 
> So, yeah. Cliché title from the All Time Low song 'Do you want me (dead?)' and I'll let you go now...

 

 

“ _Hemmings!”_

 

“Oh, shit.” Calum muttered, pulling Ashton against him on the couch for protection, as the yell echoed around the flat.

 

Several heavy footsteps later and there was a angry, half naked Michael standing in the door to the living room, a blue damp towel in hand. “Where is he?” The two boys on the couch raised their arms, pointing down the corridor, before scrambling over one another to watch as Michael stormed down the hall.

 

“Hemmings, get out here!” he demanded, banging his fist on the younger boys door until it opened revealing a irritated looking Luke.

 

“What now?” he snapped.

 

Michael flung the damp towel in his face. “This! This was on the bathroom floor. _Again_. You're not at home any more, princess and I'm sure as hell not you're fucking maid.”

 

“I don't have maids, you idiot.” Luke says, grabbing the towel tightly in his hands, “And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't pick you. You couldn't pull off that outfit.” he finishes shutting the door on Michael and smirking as he hears him yell in frustration, followed by the door next to his slamming shut.

 

Luke falls onto his bed, flinging the towel to the other side of the room where all the rest of his clothes were sat in bags, ready to be packed into his parents car when they came and collected him for the Christmas Holidays. He couldn't wait to get out of here. Not that he hated university, he liked his course, had found a good bunch of friends which included his flatmates Calum and Ashton. It was the other flatmate who was the problem (read: one and only bane of Luke's existence.)

 

Michael Clifford.

 

Michael fucking Clifford.

 

Michael 'I only met you for the first time three months ago but I've already decided to hate you forever' Clifford.

 

Luke had no idea what he had done to the other boy to make him feel this way towards him, at the moment he was considering the possibility of having met in a past life and Luke had killed his hamster or something like that. It was one of the only possible explanations had had come up with to explain Michael's immediate hatred of him.

 

Because, you can't get more immediate than:

 

“Hi, I'm Luke.”

 

“Right.” and walking away.

 

Believe it or not it had only gotten worse from there.

 

Luke had _tried_ , okay. For the first few weeks he did nothing but try. Tried to get Michael to talk to him for more than a minute, tried to make him coffee (“I don't drink coffee.” “Tea?” “Not if you make it.”), Luke even brought him pizza. _Nothing worked!_

 

When he'd asked Calum, who had known Michael from school, he just shrugged and said “That's just Mikey. He's got a few issues, he'll tell you when he's ready just hang in there.”

 

The problem was, Luke was sick of waiting for Michael to get his head out of his arse and, to be honest, he wasn't that bothered about a reason any more. So he started snapping back when the other boy complained at him, started saying when Michael did something that annoyed him until it turned into this war they had going on around them. It felt good, like he had gained some control, like by answering back and giving as good as he got, Luke was able to deal with the fact that Michael hated him that much easier.

 

It had turned from a game of 'why does he hate me' to 'who could hate the other more'. They just didn't know who was winning.

 

The buzzing of his phone on his desk broke through the silence of the room and Luke surged forward, bringing it to his ear, knowing that it would be his mum saying when he could finally come home.

 

“Mum, hi! Please say you're coming soon, everything's packed up, I can't wait to get out of here Clifford's driving me crazy.” Luke rushed out before Liz even said a word, standing and grabbing a bag as if she was actually outside his room waiting. “Ash and Cal are going back tomorrow but I'm not sure about him and I don't want to be here alone with him, I think we'd actually kill each other! Please don't make me do that, please say you're coming to get me.”

 

“I'm so sorry, Lukey.” and Luke's heart sank in his chest at his mother's words. “We're not going to be able to come and get you.”

 

Luke sank back down on the bed. “What? Why?”

 

“Your dad's boss invited him up to his house in the north for the holidays. We're on our way to the airport right now.” Liz explained.

 

“But-but what about me?” he said, fully aware of how childish he sounded but couldn't give less of a damn. “Does that mean that I have to stay here? The whole month? With _him!_ ”

 

“It's that or your Aunt says that you are more than welcome at her house?”

 

The bag that he had still being holding dropped to the ground with a _thud_. “No. Not Crazy Aunt Sally's.”

 

“Lucas, you stop that. They're your family.” Liz scolded down the phone.

 

“Yeah, and they're crazy, those kids are not normal!”

 

“Enough, those are your cousins you're talking about, young man!”

 

“They tried to light me on _fire_ , mum! I'm not spending a month with them, no way.”

 

Liz sighed, “Then I hope you and this Michael boy can sort out your problems over the next few weeks.”

 

Luke scoffed. “Yeah, that not going to happen.”

 

“You know maybe if you just gave him a ch-”

 

“I've already done that, mum. He hates me and that's not going to change any time soon.”

 

There was a long pause where all Luke could hear was the rush of traffic in the background before his mum spoke again. “Alright, Lukey, I'll call you before we fly. I love you.”

 

“Love you too.” he said, hanging up and dropping his phone on his bed, as he shuffled out of his room.

 

He found Calum and Ashton in the living room and promptly flung himself over their laps, snuggling his head into Ashton's side. “Don't go.” he pleaded, words coming out slightly muffled.

 

“Aww, are you going to miss us, Lukey?” Ashton cooed, stroking his hair.

 

“My parents are going away and I'll be stuck here with Clifford.” Luke explains, tracing circles on Ashton's chest with his finger.

 

“So, you're not going to miss us at all, you just want to use us in your little war of hate.” Calum points out, “Way to make a guy feel loved there, Hemmings.” he laughs.

 

Luke makes a blind swing at him, Calum _oofs_ so he's pretty sure it hit. “Shut up, I'm serious.”

 

“Really?” Ashton says, “You can't go home?”

 

Luke shakes his head. “It's here or my Crazy Aunt Sally's and I swear that family makes this place look like heaven.”

 

Calum whistles, “Wow, must be bad if you actual want to stay here for a whole month with Michael.”

 

“Take a good look at the flat, Cal.” Ashton laughs, “It'll be a smouldering wreck when we get back.”

 

“Just imagine the destruction, oh the humanity!”

 

This time Luke hits them both, getting up and leaving the giggling idiots to go make some coffee. Maybe it wont be that bad? It's just a month (he holds back a shudder at the thought), he could do that...Right?

 

There's a _squelch_ sound as Luke's foot lands on something squishy and cold. Looking down he sees a slice of pizza on the floor by the bin, cheese and pepperoni slices stuck to the bottom of his foot.

 

Oh for fucks sake.

 

“ _Clifford!”_

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful people!
> 
> Okay, just a heads up: this chapter contains some non-con but it's not between the boys and I don't go into great detail! This is probably as dramatic as this fic is going to be because there are enough tragic fics out there and I don't want this to be one, we all need some more light hearted fics in our lives!
> 
> So, yeah, I'm sorry about the drama and the fact that this chapter lacks the banter because of it, but there is plenty of that to come.

 

 

It had been a few days since Calum and Ashton had left and, honestly, Luke wasn't finding flat life any different to usual. If anything it had actually improved. The last he had properly seen of Michael was the first day they were left together. Luke had been lying face down on the couch, moping at the prospect of the next few weeks of his life like the adult he is, when Michael had walked in, taken one look at him and said:

“Oh, you're still here.”

Luke shot him a look, “Yeah, I am. Problem?”

“Not at all, princess.” Michael smirked, grabbing a coke from the fridge and leaving without a word.

After that, Luke had seen very little of the older boy. Hearing of him however, was entirely the opposite. It wasn't exactly a new thing, Michael playing guitar late at night, it was just that it was a lot more noticeable when it was just the two of them in the otherwise empty flat. The soft strum of the string drifting through the wall which separated their rooms had become so ingrained into Luke's head that, logically he shouldn't even notice it any more.

But he did, because it was _Michael_ , and naturally he had to find everything the other boy did, the very hight of annoyance. Actually, the guitar was one of the things about Michael which didn't bother Luke that much...which naturally made it one of the most annoying, because he _shouldn't_ _like it!_ It was like he was in denial, every time he heard a song he liked (which was far more often then the times he didn't a fact which only served to fuel his anger) Luke would find himself singing under is breath or tapping the beat out with his foot, before he caught himself and promptly shouted, “Would you stop!” at the wall.

He figured he would feel worse about it, if Michael didn't do the same to Luke when he sang. Most of the time he didn't even realise he was singing, other times he just wanted to piss Michael off as revenge for something that happened that day. He knew that the warm feeling of success that washed through him when he heard: “I swear to god, Hemmings, if you don't shut up, I'll start nailing dead things to your door!”, was a little pathetic but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

Like the guitar playing, there was one more thing that, while not new exactly there was just... more of it. That thing, was sex.

Loud sex.

Very obnoxiously loud sex.

Almost every night since Calum and Ashton left, Michael had been bringing people (it could be the same ones, but Luke definitely saw at least one boy and one girl) back to his room and having very obnoxiously loud sex. Did he mention the _very loud_ part, because that was important?

By the forth day Luke had had enough. That morning he deliberately waited in the kitchen for Michael to emerge from his room, which he did at around noon, hair tousled and sleepy looking. He took one look at Luke, sitting there with his coffee cup in hand, and said, “Sleep well, princess?”

Luke grip on the cup tightened, “Did you, I can imagine shagging everything in sight gets pretty tiring?”

“Someone's jealous.” Michael laughs, sauntering over to the fridge.

Luke scoffs into his coffee, “You wish, Clifford.”

“Like you wish you could get laid?” he retorts, leaning against the counter top, that stupid smirk still on his face.

“I could if I wanted to.” Luke argues, standing up, loving the fact he was just that much taller than Michael, who gasps mockingly, eyes wide and hand coming to his mouth.

“What would mummy and daddy say!”

“Shut up, you know I could.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes!”

“Prove it then.”

Luke freezes, _what?_ Also, when the hell did they get this close? He's practically nose to nose with Michael, can feel the other boys breath on his face. The realisation is so sudden he forgets what Michael just said. “What?”

The blonde rolls his eyes. “I said prove it, princess. I bet you can't sleep with more people than I can by the end of the month.” he declares, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest, smirk back in place. There's a look on his face like he _knows_ Luke isn't going to back down, which makes him sort of want to just to surprise him.

But he doesn't of course. Because he's an idiot and instead says: “Fine, you're on, Clifford.” and strides from the kitchen before he goes and does something really stupid like punch that freaking smirk of his face.

 

~oOo~

 

That was basically how Luke ended up stood in front of his mirror at eight o'clock that very evening, trying to get his hair to behave. The act in its self was fairly standard on any normal day, but tonight...he had a date. Like a actual, physical, going out to dinner, date.

After the incident in the kitchen, Luke had gone back to his room and started digging about for the number of the cute pizza delivery guy who gave him his number last week. He had never actually planned on using the number, thinking he was going back home for the holidays so there wasn't much point. But the guy, 'Matt' it said on the strip of paper which was now lying on his desk, was a good enough start and cute enough to be a decent 'fuck you' to Michael.

That's what this was all about really, and Luke did feel bad about it, about _using_ the guy like this, knowing that he didn't have any intention of seeing him again. Maybe he shouldn't do this? He could just call and cancel, they could find a new pizza joint and he could just go to a club and find someone else.

Just as he was about to reach for his phone, the doorbell rang. Shit. Luke heard the door being opened and a voice which he immediately recognised as Michael's said “Who the hell are you?” Fuck. He didn't hear the reply only a loud, long laugh bouncing down the hall followed by “Oy, Hemmings, your _dates_ here!”

Luke emerged from his room heading for the door, where he saw Michael, looking very much like Christmas came early as he stood next to a shorter dark haired boy who was awkwardly shifting his weight from side to side and looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Luke pushed past Michael, making sure to put as much force as possible behind it, “Please ignore my dick of a room mate.” he muttered, forcing a smile and trying to politely drag Matt away from the door.

Michael only followed, just enough to stick his head out the door and call out, “Keep your hands to yourself, Hemmings. I know what you're like.”

“Fuck off, Clifford.”

 

~oOo~

 

After that you would think that the date could only get better from there. You would, but you'd be wrong. Oh so very, very wrong.

It was just...awkward. So, awkward. Really really, painfully awkward. Luke didn't do awkward well, in fact he had made a unofficial vow to himself after the 'underwear and string cheese incident - which will _never_ be spoken about ever again - of 2012' to actively avoid all potential awkward situations whenever possible.

Luke was one of _those_ people. The kind that laugh during funerals and attempt to make jokes about newborn babies that have people raising eyebrows and backing away slowly, child held that little bit closer. Yeah, he was that guy, put him in a potentially delicate social situation and he was guaranteed to put his foot in his mouth at some point. It was a curse and he had learned to live with it...he was getting there anyway.

It didn't take more than a glance at Matt to see that he was a 'sports guy'. Sure, he was smaller than Luke, but he was broad and he was fairly certain that just one of this guys arms was as big as both of Luke's own. So when they arrived at the restaurant, which Matt had picked out because “They do amazing salads”, Luke had to beat down the urge to eyeroll with a stick, because _really!?_

It wasn't five minutes into the date when Luke spouted his next gem: “So, if you eat so healthy and stuff how come you work at a pizza place?” In his defence in his head it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable question, okay. Judging from the look on Matt's face, he was wrong.

“I don't actually have to eat any of the pizza's you know.” he said in a clipped tone and Luke suddenly felt about 4ft tall.

“Yeah, yeah I know. I just-”

“Because I work hard on how I look, it's not easy to look this good you know.” he stated, forking salad into his mouth, while gesturing to the rest of himself. _Wow_ someone is sure of themselves aren’t they.

That one comment had set of a whole rant on the every minute detail and general importance of Matt's work out routine and was followed by a lesson on the benefits of a litany of different health shakes. Luke felt totally out of his depth, Calum and Ashton were the fitness ones, he had no clue what most of the words coming from the other guy meant. He'd all but given up when:

“...but of course you don't take that unless you're joining somewhere like a NFL team, which I am going to, once I get over to America of course.”

“So you want to be a American Football player?” Luke asked, glad that he could make some kind of link from the lecture.

So did Matt apparently, eyes gaining the smallest of sparks at Luke's words. “Yeah, I love the game, there's just no opportunities over here.”

Luke nodded, suddenly full of confidence. “Unless you like rugby, but then they're basically the same thing aren't they.” he laughs, but it dies a quick and merciless death at the stony look on Matt's face.

Aw, shit.

Matt takes a stab at his salad and Luke thinks it might actually break the plate with the force that went into it. “No, Luke. They're not the same.”

By the time they pay for the bill, Luke is fairly certain of two things:

One: On his gravestone are going to be the words ' _Luke Hemmings: Professional Killer of Conversations'_

Two: He had absolutely no interest in sleeping with this bloke. None. Not even a little inkling. No urges of the sexual kind what so ever.

Ugh, Michael is going to win and it's going to be awful!

They arrived back at Luke's flat, much to his surprise, Matt actually offered to walk him home. “Er – thanks for a nice evening...I guess” Luke said, knowing full well that neither of them was expecting the suggestion of a second date. What he wasn't expecting was the strong hand to come down heavy against the door when he tried to close it. “What the hell-” Luke managed to get out before a pair of lips forced themselves against his.

His back hit the wall and he tried to use it to push Matt away, but it only resulted in Luke's arms been pinned above his head and a hot breath in his ear. “You know, I don't think this is going to work out between us.” he chuckled lowly, sucking on Luke's neck. “But...your just so hot, how could I not...” he took a hand away, holding his arms in place with his right as his left moved to Luke's jeans. “Just once...”

“Please, don't!” He couldn't move, it was like his brain had gone into shock and just wouldn't respond. His legs were shaking, his hands were numb and there was only one thing that Luke could think to do. “ _Michael! Michael, please!”_

There was a stinging pain across his cheek and he figured Matt must have slapped him. “ _Michael!”_ His vision was blurred with tears and his chest felt so tight, the sound of a door slamming sounded like it was miles away. Luke could feel all the places Matt was until he suddenly wasn't.

There was shouting.

There was banging.

There was silence.

It took Luke a moment to register that the hands on his face were not Matt's. These hands were gentle and kind, thumbs making soothing circles against his cheek. They were Michael's hands. The voice talking to him was Michael, Luke knew the sound, the tone, but the soft words that came with it made it almost alien.

He was vaguely aware that he was on the floor but with no memory of getting there, eyes tightly shut he could feel how tense he was. “You're okay, Luke...bastards gone...it's just the shock...” the soft voice that was like Michael's said. Is that what this feeling was, shock? Was he in shock?

Suddenly, Luke felt arms around him and then he was flying. Or that's what it felt like. “Just focus on something else, princess...focus on me.” the Michael-like voice told him and Luke liked the voice, the voice helped. So he did what they said.

The last thing he remembers was curling his face into the warmth of the person holding him. _I like their smell._ Luke thought. _I want to stay here forever._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fun in the next chapter I promise! Which will probably be either Friday or Saturday cos I got some life things to do...
> 
> ...Until then, come say hi on tumblr: cliffakitten.tumblr.com or comment because each one makes my day! 
> 
> (Thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter btw you're all sweethearts and I love you! <3)  
> xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you gorgeous lot!  
> First off, about 3/4 of this chapter was written in a very hungover state, so I apologise for any mistakes and for the lateness. (I was meant to have it up last night, oops) 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos on the last chapters, it really does make my day when you guys tell me what you think and I love you all. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr! (cliffakitten.tumblr.com) If you haven't said hi yet then I'd love to hear from you!

 

 

Michael hadn't seen Luke in three days.

Not that he was keeping track of it or anything, but the guy had gone through a trauma for gods sake, it was only right to make sure he was okay. He was being a decent person, that was all...even if he did hate the blonde boy, because he did. Really.

Still, three days of nothing, not even a sound from Luke's room, that was weird. Even Michael knew that. He'd even knocked on his door on the second evening, not that Michael expected a reply, or that's what he told himself anyway. What he really didn't expect was the hollow feeling in is stomach when Luke didn't say a word in response to his “Hey, Hemmings you dead in there?”, but that was just because he was hungry. Well, that's what he told himself.

The only thing that was stopping Michael from calling someone or breaking the damn door down himself, was the fact that dishes kept appearing in the sink, which weren't his. He figured Luke must be alive and active enough to make food, the mystery was when. A mystery which was solved on the third evening, technically the forth morning, when Michael heard the clang of pots from the kitchen and the soft sound of Luke's door closing

And it wasn't that he felt relieved at all, because that would mean he cared if he did. Which was ridiculous...Michael didn't care about Luke. He didn't. He didn't care that when he played his guitar late at night there was no bang of protest from the next room, he didn't play just that little bit louder because of it and he defiantly didn't notice that the singing had stopped, not at all. He certainly didn't sulk about it as he lay in bed later that night.

Michael. Didn't. Care. About. Luke.

That's what he told himself.

After three days Michael had gotten used to living practically on his own. Which is why it was a surprise when he walked into the living room on the forth afternoon to find Luke on the couch, dressed in sweats, a oversized vest and his hair pushed back under a beanie. He looked like...well, like someone who hasn't seen the light of day in four days. Absolute shit.

Honestly. Michael didn't know which was more of a shock, seeing the younger boy in the flesh for the first time in three days, or the fact that he had a xbox controller in his hands. Luke didn't even look up when Michael came into the room, eyes fixed on the TV as his fingers furiously pressed buttons on the controls and, wait, he took a double take at the TV... was that Halo?

“What are you doing?” Michael asks, slowly.

“What does it look like?” Luke replied, his voice emotionless, not sparing him a glance. “I'm playing Halo.”

Michael snorts. “Yeah, shitly and which you _never_ do if I may add.”

The other boy frowns, “I play xbox.” he says, indignantly with a slight pout.

“You play Fifa. That doesn't count.” Michael states.

“Yes it does.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Does.”

“Doesn't” Michael laughs for what feels like the first time in days, but he hasn't missed this, his and Luke's little fights. He hasn't.

“Fuck off, Clifford.” Luke mumbles, leaning forward slightly, fingers working desperately over the buttons. There's the sound of intense gunfire and lots of explosions before a groan from Luke's character when he dies. He sighs, laying back against the couch, head back and eyes closed with a look on his face that's so, _sad._

“It's distracting, okay. The game.” he says, voice so quiet, Michael isn't even sure he was meant to have heard it. “It keeps my head busy...I couldn't stop thinking about...couldn't stop _feeling_ him. Everywhere, he was just _everywhere._ I couldn't even sleep, every time I close my eyes...”

Michael isn't even thinking but before he knows it he's making his way over, dropping himself into the space beside the blonde boy and saying “Move over then.”

Luke turns his head, and those blue eyes finally look at him. “What?”

Michael leans forward, picking up the other controller and turning it on. “If you're gonna be playing proper games from now on, then I'm gonna have to show you how to not be completely shit at least.”

He expects Luke to huff and storm off, most probably calling him a dick or something along those lines. But he doesn't, instead he settles back, propping his legs up on the coffee table next to Michael's, close enough so that the other boy can feel the warmth coming from them. And Michael's gripped with the sudden urge to shift over that extra inch so they're actually touching. But he doesn't, burying the urge deep, deep, _deep_ down.

Not a minute into the game and Michael is saying, “Okay, for starters, you do know that the circle in the middle is where you are shooting, right?” followed by Luke muttering death threats and various ways to cause serious injuries under his breath and they're back to their normal selves.

They play until it gets dark, the harsh light from the screen hitting their faces and Michael notices just how dark the circles under Luke's eyes are when he yawns loudly, he wonders if he's been sleeping.

“You look tired as shit.” Is what he says.

Luke snorts, “Thanks.”

The sound of blaster shots and dying aliens fill the brief silence that follows before Michael asks, “Seriously though, Hemmings, have you not been sleeping?”

“Not really...why do you even care? You hate me.”

Well, that knocked Michael back. In all of the months they've been at each others throats, Luke's never been that forward, then again, Michael's never given him reason to. Maybe it was the sense of security you get when you are in a darkened room, or the warning Calum and Ashton gave him before they left, or maybe, just maybe the afternoon in Luke's company made him lower his walls. Either way, Michael finds himself saying, “I don't hate you, Hemmings.”

For the second time that day Luke is looking at him like he just sprouted a second head. “What?”

Michael sighs, pausing the game and running a hand over his face. Well he might as well tell him now. “I said that I don't actually hate you.”

“But – but you never talked to me, you never even tried. You always yell at me for any reason you can find. You _tell_ me that you hate me, for gods sake and you expect me to just _believe_ you when you say you don't?”

“Well, yeah...kinda.” Michael says, rubbing the back of his head.

“The fuck, Clifford.” Luke states, standing up and moving to the door only to stop when Michael reaches out, grabbing his wrist.

The two boys just stare at the spot where they're touching, both as equally surprised at the move as the other. “Just-just let me explain, yeah?” he asks, suddenly finding it very important to get Luke to hear him out. God what was happening to him?

He looks up at the blue, narrowed eyes above him and see them soften slightly as Michael pouts. “Fine. I don't know why you want to do this now, but fine. You got one chance, Clifford.” Luke announces, sitting back down.

Michael clears his throat, shuffling around in his seat. “Okay, so erm- basically, I...um-”

“For the love of god, Clifford!”

“Okay, okay, alright!...So you know how we've been really pathetic-”

“ _We_?”

“Fine! How _I've_ been pathetic since we met.”

Luke arches a brow. “Really, I hadn't noticed.”

“Ha fucking ha. Michael replies dryly. “Well, before they left Cal and Ash kinda told me to lay off you a bit. Actual Ash said to 'I love you, man but stop been a dick to Lukey or I'll beat your ass to the ground.'”

“Really? Ashton said that?” Luke smiled, a slightly puzzled look on his face.

Michael snorted. “Yeah, the guy is freakishly protective over you, you know. Anyway, it just seemed like a good time to explain myself. That and I kinda like my ass and would hate to see it beaten to the ground.”

Luke's lips twitched but he said nothing so Michael took a deep breath and continued, “Basically, my family is poor as fuck.” he'd never been one to beat around the bush, so why start now. “Like, we had a really shitty car which broke down every other month anyway so I don't even know why we had it. My mum works two jobs and then comes home to do little jobs for neighbours for a few extra dollars. I barely saw my dad because of his hours and my job every day after school. It wasn't a life, like we didn't do anything but work.”

“It was at a parent-teacher meeting and my music teacher, one of the one that actually liked me, was telling them how I should go to collage and how he thought I had the talent for it. I hadn't even considered college, there was no way we could afford it. But my parents wanted me to get out, have a better life and all that shit, so they sold the car and worked they're asses of to send me here.”

“Michael, I -”

“And then _you_ show up. With your fancy car and nice clothes that aren't from a second hand place and I just _hated_ you. You were like the living, breathing representation of everything I could never have and so I took it all out on you.”

There was a hand on Michael's shoulder, hesitant like Luke was unsure if he could touch him. “I'm not all that rich, not like you think. My family's pretty average, my dad works for a law firm and my mum is a teacher.”

“Have you ever been skiing down the Alps at any point in your life?”

“Um...yeah.”

“Then that makes you rich to me, princess.” Michael laughs. “So, sorry I guess, for been a dick to you.”

Luke smiles, bumping him with one of his ridiculously broad shoulders. “Sorry for going skiing down the Alps.” For a moment they sit there, sneaking glancing at one another, basking in their newly formed truce. “One more game?” Luke asks, “I think I'm actually getting pretty good now.”

“Don't get cocky, Hemmings, I could still crush you with my eyes closed.”

 

~oOo~

 

It's gone midnight before they eventually decide to call it a day. Michael's just about to head off when Luke says quietly, “Thanks, Michael.”

He stopped in the doorway, chuckling awkwardly and feeling the other boys eyes on him but not turning around to face him. “I did it for the xbox, if I had to watch you fuck up one more time I was gonna break the damn thing.”

“You know what I mean, you dick.” Luke says, but for once there's no heat behind the words.

Michael takes a glance at the blonde boy on the couch, the controllers are on the table and he's curled his legs up against his body, hugging a cushion against his chest so only his wide eyes are visible over the top as he looks up to Michael. “Yeah, I know.”

When Luke returns to his room, his phone – which he hadn't looked at in days – has texts from Calum from a few days ago.

 

 **Calum:** _have you and mickey killed each other yet?_

 

Luke smiles, typing out a reply before getting into bed, for the first time in days his head isn't filled with images of _that_ night and without even thinking he drifts off to sleep.

 

 **Luke:** _something tells me we're gonna be ok_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*  
> Sooooooo???


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, folks!  
> I need to stop writing chunks of chapters when I'm horribly hungover. But I'm back at uni and that's my excuse for the excessive drinking!  
> You're all probably gonna hate me at the end of this one, so...sorry :S xx

 

 

“Oh, that was _nice_!...but you still suck, Hemmings.”

“Bet I could still beat your ass at Fifa though.”

“Bring it, princess.”

Luke watches as Michael gets up from the couch to change the game and smiles. Two weeks ago if someone asked if he thought the flat would still be standing, he would have said they were optimistic. If they had said that he and Michael hadn't killed each other by this point, he would have said they clearly didn't know them that well.

Yet here they are and the flat was still standing, Luke and Michael were both very much still alive. Even more amazing was how Luke was even starting to consider the older boy as a friend for the first time.

 _'How the hell did this happen'_ Luke thought to himself as Michael turned back to him grinning on the way back to his seat, bumping his shoulder against Luke's. “Ready to loose, Hemmings?”

“In your dreams, Clifford.”

He does win as it turns out. 5 games to 2 in fact, much to Michael's joy. Luke doesn't think he seen someone sulk this much who wasn't under the age of ten, it's ridiculously adorable. _Wait, what?_

This was the sort of thing that had been happening more and more over the past week, these thoughts popping into Luke's head. Stupid, dangerous, confusing thoughts. Thoughts that took over when he was laying in bed at two in the morning, with the soft sound of a guitar drifting through the thin wall.

_Michael looked good today_

shut up

 _* Michael grinning at him with a snapback on his head_ * _wish he wore it everyday_

stop it

* _Michael curled up on the couch, sweater sleeves pulled over his hands * he looked so cuddly_

he didn't

_his lips are so red, how did I never notice that_

they're not that red

_wonder what it would be like to kiss him_

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit shit fuck

“Hey, Hemmings.”

This needs to stop, it's ridiculous

“Hemmings?”

He doesn't even _like_ Michael for god's sake

“Earth to, princess.”

He doesn't.

“ _Luke!”_

Luke jumped, cheeks reddening when he sees Michael next to him, brow quirked and mouth slightly open. The red in Luke's cheeks only deepens when he realises he was staring. “I-um. Sorry, what I was -?”

“Completely zoned out like the head case I always knew you were, yeah I noticed.” Michael teased. “I said, I'm starved and do you fancy a take out, you goon?”

“Sure. Looser pays though.” he says, smirking at the other boy.

Michael glares at him, the impact softened considerably by the pout on his face. “Fine, but I get to pick what we're having.”

“Fair enough.” Luke agrees and Michael fist pumps in victory.

“Bring on the pizza!”

Luke doesn't know what happens but at the words his body seizes up and his chest tightens. He can feel him again, hands on his wrists, hot breath against his neck. His vision's blurry and he feels like he can't breathe as his hands grip the arm of the couch. There's a voice in his ear, the same from that night and the familiar sound make the tightness around his chest lessen, his vision clears and he can feel a comforting touch on his shoulders.

“-it's okay, Luke it's okay. Shit I'm such an arse.” Michael tells him, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin.

“I'm okay, I'm okay.” Luke whispers, and he does. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he can feel his body returning to normal. “I'm fine, look, I'm fine.”

Michael sighs, his head drooping as the grip he has on Luke's shoulders lessen. “I'm sorry, I totally forgot. We can get something else. Chinese, I haven't had that in ages! Or we could-”

“Pizza's good, Michael. I want the pizza.” the blonde boy assures him, not finding this side of Michael sweet at all. Nah uh, not even a little bit. He's not enjoying the feeling of his hands (still busy tracing circles into his shoulders by the way) on him at all.

“You sure?”

“Luke rolls his eyes. “Just order the freakin pizza, Clifford!”

The other boy nods, grabbing his phone with a quick “Pepperoni, yeah?” before the phone is answered. Michael's unusually quiet ordering, even going to the other side of the kitchen and keeping his back turned. He glances over his shoulder at Luke just before he hears him say, “Can you not send the usual guy this time...yeah we had a disagreement...great thanks.” he turns back, pocketing his phone. “Be here in twenty. I'm going for a shower, you alright getting the door if it comes?”

“Sure, s'no problem.” Luke shrugs and Michael nods, throwing a brief wave as he heads to the bathroom.

It had only been fifteen minutes when the doorbell sounded through the flat. Luke had been sat flicking through his phone and had only heard the shower go off a minute ago, so he swung his legs off the couch and headed for the door.

Like, Michael had asked, they had sent another guy and Luke felt a tension in his chest that he didn't even know was there, disappear at the sight of the new guy on the other side of the door. “Two pepperoni's?” the guy said, holding up the pizza boxes.

“Yeah,” Luke said, digging in his pockets, forgetting where he put the money. “Is twenty ok?”

“Sure, dude.” pizza guy said, eyeing him curiously. “Hey, are you the guy that Matt went out with the other week?”

Luke's hand freezes around the twenty note he just found in his pocket. “Why?”

Pizza guy just shrugs. “Nothing really, he just said you were a bit of a dick, but you seem just fine to me.”

Before Luke can answer, there is a sudden presence behind him and then a flash of bare skin reaching around and grabbing the money from his hand. “Yeah, well your _mate_ is the dick for trying to force someone to sleep with him. So you can tell him that if I ever see his pathetic little face again, I'll beat the living crap outta him.” Michael growls, grabbing the pizza's from the wide-eyed delivery guy and shoving the twenty in his hand before slamming the door.

“You, okay?” he asks, turning to a slightly stunned Luke and it's the first time he takes a proper look at Michael.

Michael who is half naked, just a towel around his waist.

Michael who still has wet hair, all messed up and falling in front of his face.

Michael who hasn't dried off properly and there has lines of water running down him, which Luke is trying really, _really_ hard not to follow down.

He swallows loudly, “Yeah, yeah fine.”

“You sure cos you look a little terrified?” _yeah, I bet,_ Luke nods, “Cool. Right, I’m starved, lets eat this pizza.”

 

~oOo~

 

They were laying on the couch, empty pizza boxes scattered about on the coffee table, a crappy movie on the tv and Michael was quiet. Unusually quiet, sat with a cushion hugged tightly against him and a hand running through his hair every minute, he didn't even seem interested in the movie. (It was shit, but still that wasn't the point here)

Finally he rolls his head towards Luke, looking up at him with huge, wide eyes and Luke is taken back for a second at the sheepish expression on his face. He had grown used to the confidence that Michael just seem to give off, remembering how he always used to see it as arrogance, seeing this almost vulnerable look on the other boy was like seeing a whole new and different person.

“Um, could I ask you a favour?” he asked, Luke nods and Michael takes a deep breath, “Would you help me dye my hair?” and, okay, that wasn't what he was expecting, “It's just that Cal usually helps, but he's not here and – you don't have to, I was stupid to ask -”

“I'll do it.”

“Really?”

Luke shrugs, “Sure, I kinda owe you one any way. Wanna do it now or-”

“Yeah, now's good.” Michael says, all traces of uncertainty are gone as he gets up from the couch and points down the hall. “All the stuffs in the bathroom so...” Luke just smiles and follows the older boy out of the room.

Dying hair is trickier than Luke ever thought it would be. Not that he's ever really given much thought to it at all but if he did then he's sure he would have said it wasn't as fiddly as this.

“Make sure you get all of it.” Michael instructs as Luke stands behind him, hands in gloves which are covered in the bright red-orange dye he's running through the boys hair.

“Yes, sir.”Luke mutters, just happening to glance up into the mirror where he can see Michael's blush creep up his neck, he clears his throat and shifts in his seat and _oh._ This time Luke can feel and see his own reddening cheeks, so he ducks back down taking extra care to cover every inch of previously white-blonde hair.

It's hard to focus, especially since Michael is sat there, shirtless for the second time that night, with a towel slung over his shoulders. Someone up there has it in for him, Luke just knows it. “Think I'm done.” he says, doing a quick check for any straggling blonde bits. “I'll go tidy the kitchen, them i'll come back and we'll wash it out. Just don't move around and get dye everywhere.”

Michael smirks, “Look who's bossy now.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love it.” Luke teases, enjoying the gob-smacked look on the other boys face a little too much.

Half and hour later and Luke has Michael in the shower. Well half of him, bent over the side of the bath as Luke rises the dye from his hair which is turning the water red and is rather unsettling. “Looks like you've cracked your head open.”

“Aww, does the little princess not like blood?” Michael coos, the effect ruined when Luke just sprays him in the face with the shower. “Dick.” he mutters, but there's a smile on his face.

Once the water runs clear, they finish with the shower and Michael stands up, shaking his head like a wet dog, sending water everywhere. Including Luke. “Ugh. Jerk!”

“Revenge is mine, sweetpea.” Michael says, patting Luke's cheek as he saunters from the room.

Luke follows, out of instinct at this point, not realising that it was the first time he would actually be in Michael's room until he was sat on the bed, watching him plug in a hair dryer and he snorts.

“What?” Michael asks, hair dryer in hand.

Luke quirks a eyebrow and points to his hand, “You have a hair dryer.”

“I'll have you know, Hemmings, that a lot of guys used hair dryers. Could probably do something to help that sorry excuse for a quiff you got there.” he says, winking as he turns the dryer on.

“How does it look, then?” Michael asks a few minutes later. Luke sits up from where he had collapsed on the bed, instantly missing the intense sent of _michael_ that was found there.

_really good, really really very good. kinda makes me want to do things to you good, or you to me I'll take either._

“Nice.”

_fuck_

“Nice? Really, Hemmings?”

Luke stands and takes the two strides towards Michael. “You just need to...” he muttered, reaching out and carding his fingers through the front, watching fixedly as Michael's eyes slowly closed and Luke became lost in the feeling. His gaze moved down past his new orange hair, down his face, skin so white against the brightness of his hair.

_I could kiss him_

_I want to kiss him_

_I can't kiss him_

_he hates me_

He's staring at Michael's lips now, not noticing that the other boy's eyes have opened when Luke's hands stopped moving. Like Luke, Michael's not looking him in the eye but at Luke's lips. They're close, so close and Michael's leaning forward and wait why is he doing that. Why isn't he pushing Luke away?

This isn't meant to happen. He hates Luke, or he did a week ago anyway, there's no way he could want this like he does.

_It's too much_

_they were only friends_

_it's too much_

“I'm sorry, I can't.” Luke chokes out, feeling his lips brush Michael's as he says it, before running from the room.

 

~oOo~

 

That night he lays there, waiting for the sound of a guitar to come through the wall.

It doesn't.

Luke doesn't sleep much that night.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come vent your opinions/feels on tumblr (cliffakitten.tumblr.com) or in the comments cos I love it when you guys do either!  
> <3 xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you gorgeous folks!
> 
> Sorry about not updating as fast. The past few days have been mad: I've dressed as a giant fake boob (there was a legit charity based reason i swear) had a job interview and been doing various uni-prep stuff, so i hope you can forgive me. 
> 
> So, this is actually the last full chapter, i will probably do a smutty, fluff filled epilogue thingy in the next week or so but it wont be close to the other chapters in length. But do keep an eye out for that if you wish :) 
> 
> Lastly to every single one of you who have stuck with this fic till the end, I love you so so so so so much, you are the best people ever. (This is actually one of the only times i've finished a chaptered fic, look at me i'm growing!) Yeah, now go and -hopefully- enjoy this last(ish) chapter!

 

It had been a week since the not-but-very-nearly-kissing incident and if anyone asked, Luke was doing just fine thank you for asking. Except he wasn't, not even a little bit. He was spending as much time out of the flat as he could, wandering around the city and single handedly contributing to around 60% of his local coffee shop's income.

He could count on one hand the number of times he had caught so much as a glimpse of Michael during all that time, most of those where as one of them was leaving or arriving back at the flat and lasted no more than a few seconds. Then there was that one time in the kitchen which was just awkward as fuck and Luke doesn't want to even think about it.

Honestly, Luke thinks he could cope with it. The hurt glances in the hall, the loneliness, the constant, hollow ache in his stomach because he just _misses_ Michael so damn much. All of that, he could cope with all of that shit, if only Michael started playing his guitar again.

It was stupid, Luke knew that. Wouldn't that only make it worse after all? But he knew that the silence meant that the other boy was feeling just as out of it as Luke was, which only added a huge, great pile of guilt onto the shit heap that had become his life. Because he had made Michael feel like that and that just wasn't fair.

On one of his walks through the city, in the middle of the square Luke saw the massive Christmas tree that was put up every year. Right in the middle, in bright fluorescent lights were the words ' _1 Day Until Christmas'_. He blinked up at the waving Santa light for a second before it all clicked. _It was bloody christmas eve!_ And it was right there, under the creepy mobile Santa, when Luke decided something. He was going to fix this fucking mess, it would probably take a miracle, but hey, it _was_ Christmas.

 

~

 

Six hours and two sore feet later and Luke was pretty sure that miracles didn't like him all that much.

It was a good plan in theory. He would get Michael a present, apologise for been dick of the century and (with a whole lot of wishful thinking) everything would be back to normal. Okay, so it was a bit naive and slightly problematic in the fact that he had no idea what the hell to actually get Michael.

After going round what felt like every shop in the city, it was a sweet old lady at a little market stall who brought realisation crashing down on Luke's head. At the time, he was passed the point of even properly looking when he wandered passed the stall. It was a tiny place, a little over two meters wide and packed to the brim with little charms and trinkets. Sure, they were cute enough Luke thought as he absently picked up a voodoo doll charm and smiled. Michael would probably like them, but it wasn't exactly the big gesture he was looking for right now.

“Looking for that special someone, love?” the old lady said to him.

“Yeah.” Luke replied, without even thinking before it dawned on him what he just said.

“You alright there?”

_no not really_

_oh god i_ _like michael_

_like really like him_

And at that moment Luke kind of really really wanted to hit himself because, how could he _just_ be figuring this out now for fucks sake.

_i like michael_

_i like michael_

_i **like** michael_

“I like Michael.” he said, just because it seemed like the sort of thing which needed to be said out loud, or screamed from the rooftops or plastered across the whole city.

The old lady smiled. “Maybe you should try telling Michael that, dear.”

Luke's heart sank in his chest and he shook his head, “I think I messed that up, like properly messed up.”

“Does he feel the same way, though?”

Now _that's_ a question. Luke was just about to answer 'no of course not' when he stopped, was it dangerous to the human brain to have two moments of sudden clarity within minutes of one another, because Luke was certain that it should be warned about at least. As he stood there, looking back on everything that had happened the past week with this new, amazing, god-he-hoped-this-was-true-idea that Michael might have actually liked Luke as well all this time. Well everything just made sense. The avoidance, if it had been a joke wouldn't Michael have wanted to bring it up at every available time? The hurt look in Michael's eyes when ever they crossed paths, Luke would bet good money to say he looked exactly the same in those moments. The _kiss_ (well the near-kiss, _damnit hemmings!_ ).

In conclusion, Luke had been a royal asshat.

_he likes me_

_he likes me_

_**he likes me** _

“He likes me.”

The old lady rolled her eyes. “Well done, honey, now I'm I going to have to go tell him myself, or are you?”

_tell him? i'm going to have to tell him_

_oh god_

“Will you help me?”

 

~

 

It was Christmas morning and Luke Hemmings was a man with a plan.

With help from Gloria, the old lady from the stall whom Luke had adopted as a third grandmother by the end of the night, he had come up with the most perfect plan to win Michael back and apologise all at the same time. He hoped.

Luke was going to make Michael Christmas dinner. In his defence, Gloria had come up with the idea, Gloria who had no knowledge of Luke's ability (or lack thereof) in the kitchen. So naturally the plan had a few flaws, one of which being that it was Christmas Eve which meant that nowhere had anything resembling an acceptable Christmas dinner left.

He wasn't fooling himself, Luke was well aware that a chicken and various packs of frozen vegetables did not qualify as a Christmas dinner, even if he did have cranberry sauce. But he would challenge anyone to go out and find a turkey on Christmas Eve, it can't be done. All of which meant that today Luke was a very firm supporter of 'its the thought that counts'.

As he climbed the stairs to the flat with his hands full of food bags, Luke was feeling somewhat confident with his plan. So naturally when he stepped into the kitchen his plan was blown firmly out of the water, but strangely, he was okay with that.

The kitchen was a mess, actually 'bombsite' may have been a better word to describe the chaos that Luke saw in front of him. Every section of the cooker had a pan on it, accompanied by various stains and spills which stretched out on to every available surface. There was kitchen stuff that Luke didn't even know they owned scattered about the place and in the middle of it all was a fluently cursing Michael Clifford.

Face flushed and covered in just as many marks as the space around him, seemingly unaware of Luke's presence as he knelt down, fiddling with the over controls. Luke was hit with just a strong wave of pure _fondness_ for the boy that he actually forgot how to talk for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing, Clifford?” he laughed as Michael shot up, hitting one of the spoons in a pan and sending it flying as he spun around.

“Nothing! Definitely not trying to make us dinner. Absolutely not.” the red-headed boy said, attempting to hide the mass of pots with his body and failing.

Luke put down the bags and walked further into the kitchen. “Funny, cos that's exactly what it looks like.”

Michael sighs, running a hand over is face and expression turning bashful. “Fine. I wanted to make it up to you for being such a dick, I just wanted you to like me. I thought you _did_ like me...” and Luke's heart broke at the look on his face, man how had he been such a asshole? “...anyway so I didn't know what to do and all the magazines said I should cook so-”

“Wait, did you just say _magazines._ ” Luke smiled.

“...no...”

“Yes you did, you definitely said mag-”

“Fine I read the fucking magazines are you happy now?” Michael yelled, throwing his hands up but he was smiling and that was all Luke cared about.

“Yes.” he said, happily. “Oh, and your pans about to boil over.”

“ _Shit!”_

_~_

In the end they ended up using most of the stuff Luke had brought since Michael's stuff had either burnt to the bottom of pans or was just inedible, which naturally he took well.

(“Don't sulk, I thought that the thought was cute.”

Michael just grumbled and proceeded to shove instant mash into his mouth.)

They ate on the couch, plates on their knees, Luke's feet tucked under Michael's thighs – he hadn't said a word about it, only lifting his leg up so Luke could slide properly under and a slight twitch at the corner of his lips – Home Alone was on the tv and Luke couldn't remember the last time he was this happy.

Neither of them had said anything about 'that night' so far, both eager to just enjoy the moment a bit longer. But Luke just had to see, he had to tell him to explain, the need was hanging over him like a dark, looming cloud that needed to be blown away.

He took a deep breath.

“So, about the _thing_ that happened.” he said, eyes fixed on the tv and not looking at Michael, who he could feel stiffen suddenly on top of his feet.

His voice surprisingly calm when he said, “What about it?”

_breathe_

“I've been thinking and...” _breathe_ _“_ could you maybe, try it again.”

This time Michael did look at him and Luke slowly lifted his eyes to meet the wide ones now staring at him. “What?”

“Could. You. Try. It. Again?” Michael just stares at him blankly and Luke's waited too long for this, “For fucks sake, Michael are you gonna kiss me or-”

Suddenly there's pillows against his back and all that is running through Luke's head is the fact that it turns out that Michael's lips are as soft as they look. There's a hand around the back of his neck pulling him in closer to the body that is now laying between his open legs. Michael's body. Michael's body was on top of his and he was kissing him. _holy shit._

Luke's hands slid from Michael's hip up across his chest and fisting into his hair, which was still soft and fluffy despite the dye jobs. He kisses back with everything he's got, trying to put as many words, apologies and feeling into the kiss as he possibly can.

_i'm sorry_

He sucks at Michael's bottom lip and the older boy groans.

_i like you_

He meets Michael's tongue with his own and feels the grip on his neck tighten as hips push down on his forcing him further into the couch. Luke feels overwhelmed, but in the best possible way, he's overwhelmed by Michael.

There is Michael everywhere, quite literally. Everywhere. Luke doesn't think he would have it any other way.

“So, um...I kinda like you.” Luke says once they come up for air. “And I should have told you before, but I’m and idiot who only realised that I didn't just think you were ridiculously kissable-” at that Michael swooped down catching Luke's lips in his own again.

“That feeling's mutual.” he winks. “But do continue about how much you want to kiss me.”

Luke smiles, he don't think he could stop if he tried. “So, yeah I only realised that I actually wanted to be around you all the time about twenty four hours ago, so...sorry.”

Fingers tilt his chin up so he's looking Michael in the eyes which are shining as bright as his smile. Like Luke can't stop smiling, Michael can't seem to stop kissing him, planting another searing kiss on the blonde's lips before pulling back. “Can I tell you a secret?” Luke nods, “I've always thought that you were ridiculously kissable. Which was really fucking annoying when I was trying to hate you, you know.”

Luke's only response was to pull him down into the couch again muttering “God, we've been such idiots haven't we.” against Michael's lips before slotting them together.

~

He thinks it's all in his head at first. It feels like a lifetimes since he's heard the sound of Michael's guitar coming through their wall and he doesn't quite believe it but it's there the soft melody of a song that Luke finds himself singing along to without thinking.

There's another sound, a deeper voice singing along with him. Luke's never heard Michael sing before but he knows it's another thing that he could quickly fall in love with. They sing till the end of the song, then there's silence and no, he can't stop after just one song. He needs a weeks worth of songs damnit.

Luke's just about to go and tell him this when there's a soft knock at his door.

It's Michael, guitar in hand the other rubbing the back of his head. “Can I come in?” Figured we could hear each other better without the wall, you know?”

Luke just grins and pulls Michael in by the collar of his shirt, lips finding each other as they stumble backwards into Luke's room.

~

 

 **Ash:** _hi you 2, how was your christmas?? x_

 

 **Luke:** _mindblowing_

 

 **Mikey:** _well there was definitely blowing and it definitely wasnt my mind ;)_

 

 **Luke:** _MICHAEL! i was trying to be subtle ffs_

 

 **Ash:** _ew ew ew ew ew ew ew_

 

 **Mikey:** * _sunglasses emoji*_

 

 **Cal:** _ok first off. gross i did not need to know that_

 

 **Cal:** _second. ash you owe me 50_

 

 **Ash:** _ugh, fine... you two sorted yourselves out then, we got no more problems??_

 

 **Mikey:** _oh I think you got a whole new kind of problems_

 

 **Mikey:** _problems of the sexual kind_

 

 **Luke:** _MICHAEL!_

 

 **Calum:** _that's it i'm not coming back. ash we're getting another flat away from these sex freaks_

 

 **Luke:** _i hate this flat_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I love you all so so much and would love to know what you thought at the end of this, so either comment down below or hit up my ask box on tumblr (cliffakitten.tumblr.com) cos i adore hearing from you guys it makes my whole day! 
> 
> All my love <3 <3 <3 xxx


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUUUUUUT!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AS PROMISED I BRING YOU SMUTTY GOODNESS!!
> 
> (well idk about the 'goodness' bit i shall leave that up for you lovely folks to decide ;) )
> 
> xx

"You’re not allowed to go."

“Oh so I’m not _allowed_ now am I?"

“No, I won’t let you."

“You’re being childish."

“Maybe I don’t care.”

It was three months since Christmas. Three months since Ashton and Calum invested in some pretty effective earplugs. Three months since Michael and Luke finally stopped trying to kill each other.

Well, most of the time.

Their latest fight was one of their least trivial at least, but like most of the others was mainly down to Michael being a stubborn arse. Luke was going home to his family for Easter break and naturally this went down well with Michael,who wanted his boyfriend to stay with him instead.

“I want to see my family Michael, I haven’t seen them properly in a month!” Luke says, standing I front of the red head who’s sat at the end of Luke’s bed, arms folded, back against the wall and staring at the ceiling, pout firmly in place.

“Fine, go.” Michael tells him, “Clearly you don’t care about me the way I do about you. But fine you go.”

Luke clenches his fists in his hands, he knows Michael’s just saying it to get a rise from him but the implication still hurts. “You dick, that’s not fair and you know it.

Of course I care about you.”

Michael just shakes his head “Don’t believe you.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Nope. Gonna have to show me and prove it.” The little shit is smirking, knowing that Luke gets full well what he means. And he was more than happy to play along and Michael was not going to enjoy it.

“Fine.” Luke says, fingers moving to the buttons of his flannel shirt, grinning as his boyfriend's eyes tracked the movement. “I'll _show_ you.”

He goes slow, taking care to push the shirt aside more and more with each button that he opened, keeping his eyes locked on Micheal's which had already become nearly all black. Luke smirked, removing the material from his shoulders once all the buttons had been taken care of, turning away from Michael as it fell to the floor completely.

Grabbing the desk chair, he swivels it so it's facing the bed, before sitting down adjusting the back so he's leaning back when he runs his hands down his body. Luke's not looking at Michael now, knowing that it would be driving the older boy insane, his heads tilted back and his eyes are closed. He skims his fingers over his nipples, taking his lip between his teeth to stop from smirking as he hears Michael moan from the bed.

Keeping one hand there, slowly teasing in small circles, as he lets out the tiniest of whimpers, the other hand moving down dipping into the waistband of his jeans. He shifts his hips, chancing a glance at Michael, who's staring wide eyed and Luke can see the bulge in the other boys jeans, which is not so dissimilar to his own at this point.

Needing some relief he undoes his jeans with one hand and slips it underneath, groaning loudly at the contact as he palms himself over his boxers. “Mmm, feels so good.” he moans, lip between his teeth, giving his nipple a slight twist and gasping.

“Baaaabe, come here.” Michael whines, his own palm pressed against the problem in his pants, head thrown back against the wall.

Luke smirks, “But, I'm having such a nice time over here.”

“Princess, please.”

“Ok, if that's what you want.” Luke says, standing up and slipping out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers as he climbs onto the opposite end of the bed to Michael, back against the headboard. The red head goes to move closer but Luke only puts a foot on his chest, pushing him back into place. “Uh uh, you stay there.” he tells him, slipping his hand fully under his boxers, taking a hand around himself and Michael groans loudly.

“This is _not_ what I had in mind.” he says, eyes fixed on the movement of Luke's hand as he moves to do the same only to have Luke's foot knock his hand away.

“You don't get to touch.” he says, with as much authority as he can while his words comes out in slight pants. Luke reaches over to the night stand, knowing exactly what he's looking for and finding it easily.

“Aw, no Lukey. C'mon you know how much I like doing that, this isn't fair.” Michael whines when he sees the bottle of lube in his boyfriend's hand.

“But I thought you wanted me to _show_ you?” Luke says in as innocent a voice as he can, flicking open the bottle and drizzling it on his fingers.

“I change my mind.” Michael says stiffly, trying to move again only to be met with Luke's foot to his chest as the younger boy shifts, spreading his legs wide and reaching into his boxers. He knows that this more than anything would piss Michael off, knowing how he likes to watch, this theory only proved when Michael lets out a choked sob, which could only be the way to describe the noise he made when Luke gasped sharply at the cool sensation of his fingers circling his hole.

He traces the rim with the tip of his finger, knowing that the act is teasing Michael just as much as himself. Luke gently presses forward, letting out a loud, exaggerated moan just to push his boyfriend that little bit further as the tip of his finger moves past the first ring of muscle.

Michael growls and Luke smirks wider, pressing further and further with louder and louder moans as he moves the single digit in and out of himself. “Look at you.” Michael breathes, “Just let me see, princess, I wont touch if you don't want, but just let me see you, please.”

Luke ignored him for a second finger, wanting to draw this out until Michael was really, really _begging_ for it _._ He spread his legs further, lifting his hips to get a better angle, but still making sure to avoid that spot inside him, he didn't want to finish this just yet.

Luke could feel a sheen of sweat coating his body which was racked with pants as he moved and stretched his fingers. Michael whined so he decided to give him a little of what he wants, finally slipping off his boxers and throwing them to the floor, giving the other boy a perfect view of the third finger entering himself.

He worked himself open, taking his heel off Michael's chest. “Take off your pants.” Luke instructed and he can honestly say he has never seen the red headed boy move so fast in his life. Michael pulled the shirt from his body and practically broke the fastening on his jeans getting them off at the speed he did, boxers and all.

He surged over to Luke, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, tongue meeting Luke's with no messing around, he was too desperate for that now and had no shame in showing it. Both groaning into each others mouths as Michael's hands roamed across every single part of his boyfriend's body, grabbing and squeezing as Luke shifted into his lap hands -now left free from working himself open, now threaded in the bright red hair.

Luke grinds down against Michael, sending shivers of pleasure down each of their bodies as they detach and Michael moves to Luke's neck. “I can't believe you said I don't care as much.” the blonde boy pants, “You are so selfish sometimes, you know that.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” Michael mutters, pressing kiss after kiss into Luke's neck, occasionally nipping at the skin under his jaw. “Trust me, I learned my lesson. Just never have me not touch you again.” he says as his hands cup Luke's ass, lifting him so the tip of Michael's cock brushed his hole.

Luke gets the hint. He pulls Michael into another kiss as he starts to lower himself down, hands clamped tightly onto his shoulders as he feels the other boy's grip on his ass tighten when he enters him.

They are panting into each others mouths when Luke bottoms out, his ass flush against Michael's thighs as he starts to move. “So good, princess. You feel so good, so perfect.” Michael whispers, starting to work his hips so he moves further into Luke.

“Look at you so, gorgeous.” he says, grasping Luke's hip with one hand as he lays back slightly, the new angle making Luke cry out as Michael's cock hits the ball of nerves inside him.

Neither of them are going to last long, Michael can already feel the tight band of heat building in his stomach and Luke is making the most beautiful moans, lip between his teeth and eyes squeezed shut as he rides Michael. His hips grinding down in tune with the delicious gasps and moans coming from his lips and Michael can't take much more.

“M'close.” he groans, eyes closing against his will as he feels the band of heat in his stomach snap and he's filling Luke up making the younger boy cry out at the feeling.

Michael leans forward, taking Luke's leaking cock in hand and working him to the edge. “I know I'm selfish.” he says, voice broken and weak in his post orgasm state. “But it's only cos I want you all for myself, I care about you so much.” Luke moans as he runs his thumb over the head. “I love spending all my time with you, I love the sounds you make, I love the way you feel against me, around me, _in_ me.” his kisses up Luke's neck which is thrown back and he wonders if he is even listening to any of this. “I love how we take turns sleeping in each others rooms, I love waking up to you in the morning, I even love your shitty cups of tea.”

He's at Luke's ear now and the boy is panting “Close, Mikey, so close.” and Michael smiles to himself as he whispers, “But do you know what I love most of all, Lukey?... I love _you_.”

“ _Michael!”_ Luke cries, as his thighs tense around Michael's and he's sending white streaks over both their stomachs before collapsing in a shuddering heap on top of one another.

They lay like that, Michael tracing patterns into Luke's back as the younger boy is pressed against his neck. “Did you really mean that, what you said just before I...?” he mutters.

Suddenly there's a lump in Michael's throat and it's very difficult to swallow. “Yeah...I did.”

Luke just hums, burying further into his boyfriend's shoulder. “Come with me.” he says, and Michael can feel his lips move against his skin. “To my parents, come with me.”

“Do you really think that's a good idea, after I was a dick to you for so long, wont they kinda hate me?”

Luke shrugs, “Maybe at first. But then I don't really think they could completely hate the guy who I am in love with.”

Michael blames it on his sex idled brain for not picking up on what Luke said immediately. “Oh great so they'll only hate me for a few days until – wait...did you just say you love me?” he asks, leaning back and looking at the blonde with eyes like saucers.

“You are such an idiot.” Luke giggles, “Yes you moron, I'm in love with you too.”

And then they're kissing, not hot and desperate like before, but slow and sweet, taking time to let the new knowledge that they love each other sink in through every pour in their bodies.

Until the phone on the side table buzzes of course.

 

**Ashton:** _it's lovely that you both love each other, but it's 12:30 in the afternoon CAN YOU PLEASE NOT FUCK WHEN IM TRYING TO EAT MY LUNCH FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!!!_

 

**Ashton:** _oh and congratulations on the loving each other i guess xx_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a wrap people!
> 
> come say hi on tumblr if you haven't already (cliffakitten.tumblr.com)
> 
> xx


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